Hoshor Plains There's a beat that's in my heart, and it's keeping me alive.

The rollicking fields were a breath of fresh air for the wayward traveler, their long unkempt blades dancing about in the early autumn breeze as he made his way through the grassland. The sight fondly reminded him of the golden sea washed in fire and marigold he'd once seen in a dream as a child, a memory so ancient he'd nearly forgotten it in his timeworn mind. Yet it had managed to claw it's way to the surface, and the seasoned champion was grateful for it's brief appearance as he paused atop one of the several worn-down mounds. 

His remaining good eye scanned the pasture thoroughly, eventually coming to rest on the inky hunter stalking his unfortunate prey, just as the winds betrayed the predator and revealed all the paragon wished to know. 

Young. Inexperienced. Unworthy.

A low rumble of disapproval brewed in the man's chest as he debated on whether or not to approach, ultimately deciding that he should try to pry some information out of the stripling before continuing on his way.